THE  STORY  OF 
FLAMENCA: 

the  First  Modern  Novel, 

Arranged    from   the   Provencal 
Original  of  the  XHIth  Century 

by 
WILLIAM  ASPENWALL  BRADLSY 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
RIVERSIDE 


THE  STORY  OF  FLAMENCA 


THIS,  THE  FIRST  EDITION  OF  THE  STORY  OF 
FLAMENCA,  CONSISTS  OF  SEVEN  HUNDRED 
AND  FIFTY  COPIES  OF  WHICH  THIS  IS  NUMBER 

/ 


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F  \  a.  vvs  a.  n    c.  A 

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THE  JJTORY  OF 
FLAMENCA: 

7%^  ^/r5^  Modern  Novel,  Arranged 
from  the  Provencal  Original 
of  the  Thirteenth  Century  by 

WILLIAM  ASPENWALL  BRADLEY 

With  WOODCUTS  by  FLORENCE  WYMAN  IVINS 


PUBLISHED    IN   NEW    YORK     :  :     MCMXXII     s  :     BY 

HARCOURT,  BRACE  AND  COMPANY 


r 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY 
HARCOURT,  BRACE  AND  COMPANY,  INC. 


TO    J.    E.     SPINGARN 


PREFACE 

THE  Roman  de  Flamenca  occupies  a  unique 
place  in  Provencal  literature.  "It  has," 
says  Meyer,  "nothing  in  common  with  the 
old  Carolingian  and  Breton  traditions;  its 
subject  is  not  borrowed  from  the  legends 
transmitted  by  antiquity  to  the  middle  ages; 
nor  would  it  be  possible  to  see  in  it  one  of 
those  popular  narratives  which  are  to  be 
found  in  practically  every  literature,  and 
whose  impersonal  character  renders  it  im- 
possible to  determine  their  origin.  Flamenca 
is  the  creation  of  a  man  of  talent  who  wished 
to  write  an  agreeable  work  representing  the 
most  brilliant  aspects  of  courtly  life  in  the 
twelfth  century.  It  is  a  novel  of  manners."  1 
As  such  it  has  affinities  with  certain  romans 
d'aventure,  in  the  northern  idiom,  which  sim- 

1  Le  Roman  de  Flamenca,  public  d'apres  le  manuscrit  unique 
de  Carcassonne,  traduit  et  accompagne  d'un  glossaire,  par  Paul 
Meyer.  Paris,  1865. 


Vlll  PREFACE 


ilarly  combine  a  sentimental  intrigue  with 
the  representation  of  a  particular  milieu. 
F/amencay  however,  is  far  superior  to  any 
of  these  in  its  delicacy,  in  its  verve,  in  its 
richness,  in  the  truthful  delineation  of  its 
characters,  and  in  the  bold  originality  of  its 
conception.  Thus  it  stands  alone,  not  only 
in  Provensal  literature,  but  in  medieval  lit- 
erature generally,  and  may  be  called,  with- 
out exaggeration,  the  first  modern  novel. 

The  unique  manuscript  of  Flamenca  is  in- 
complete. Among  the  pages  missing  are  the 
first  and  last.  Hence  we  have  no  knowledge 
of  the  author  or  of  the  date  of  composition. 
The  latter  has  been  placed  approximately  in 
the  first  half  of  the  thirteenth  century.  At 
that  time  the  splendour  of  the  little  courts 
south  of  the  Loire  had  waned;  but  the  poet 
shows  us  the  largeness  and  liberality  that 
had  reigned  there,  while  his  lightness  of  tone 
reflects  that  relaxing  of  the  old  restraints  in 
a  sophisticated  and  pleasure-loving  society, 
which  stern  moralists  would,  no  doubt,  hold 


PREFACE  IX 

responsible  for  the  ensuing  swift  decadence. 
Love  was  the  one  real  religion  of  the  upper 
classes,  and  the  code  of  lovers,  hardened  into 
a  vast,  complicated  system,  constituted  the 
sole  effective  morality.  Flamenca  and  Guil- 
lem  are  characteristic  products  of  this  sys- 
tem, and  its  perfect  exponents.  Their  ac- 
ceptance of  it  is  complete.  Never  does  any 
doubt  enter  the  mind  of  either  as  to  the 
sovereignty  of  the  rights  conferred  by  mutual 
love.  Both  regard  themselves  as  accomplish- 
ing a  sacred  duty  in  going  directly — or  as 
directly  as  possible— to  the  goal  of  their 
desire.  At  the  same  time,  there  are  forms  to 
observe,  and  our  two  lovers  are  so  scrupulous 
in  their  observance  that  they  may  occasion- 
ally seem  engaged  much  more  in  going 
through  an  elaborate  ritual  than  in  pursuing 
dangerously  a  passionate  adventure.  Yet 
the  danger  was  there,  and  Flamenca  never 
forgets  that  if,  in  a  sense,  she  is  playing  a 
game,  it  is  a  game  the  stake  of  which  is 
death. 


X  PREFACE 

In  my  version  I  have  stressed  the  realistic 
elements  in  order  to  bring  the  story  into 
closer  harmony  with  modern  sentiment.  Nor 
is  this  the  only  liberty  I  have  taken.  If 
Flamenco? s  virtues  are  its  own,  its  defects  it 
shares  with  nearly  all  imaginative  literature 
of  the  middle  ages.  It  is  inordinately  long 
and  lacking  in  a  sense  of  proportion.  The 
interest  is  not  sustained  throughout  and, 
after  the  meeting  of  the  lovers,  ceases  en- 
tirely. Accounts  of  banquets  and  fetes  are 
interminably  protracted,  and  page  after  page 
is  filled  with  ingeniously  subtile  discourses 
on  love.  Although  the  allegorical  element 
does  not  dominate  here,  as  in  the  Roman  de 
la  Rose,  it  begins  to  rear  its  head  obtrusively, 
and  there  is  a  marked  abuse  of  dreams  and 
visions.  It  is  because  of  these  shortcomings 
that,  despite  its  charm,  it  has  remained 
relatively  unknown.  Hence  I  have  not 
hesitated  to  operate  heroically,  cutting  to 
the  bone  in  many  places,  and  adding  a 
ligature  or  two  when  necessary.  Some  will, 


PREFACE  XI 

no  doubt,  reproach  me  with  the  sacrifice  of 
more  than  one  delightful  passage;  but  my 
purpose  throughout  has  been  to  disengage 
the  story  itself,  in  its  main  lines,  and  any- 
thing that  interfered  with  this  has  had  to  go. 
Wishing  to  take  counsel  of  Flamenca  in 
my  undertaking,  I  made  a  pilgrimage  last 
summer  to  the  scene  of  her  suffering  and 
happy  release.  Alas,  I  found  little  at  Bour- 
bon-1'Archambault,  now  an  obscure  thermal 
station  of  the  Centre,  to  remind  me  of  my 
heroine.  There  are,  indeed,  on  a  height 
dominating  the  town  the  romantic  ruins  of 
an  imposing  castle  which  one  would  willingly 
accept  as  her  prison;  but  my  guide  informed 
me  that  this  fortress  was  not  erected  till 
more  than  a  century  later,  though  doubtless 
it  occupies  the  same  site.  At  the  baths,  save 
for  a  few  remains  from  Roman  times,  nothing 
goes  farther  back  than  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, when  this  was  one  of  the  favorite  re- 
sorts of  the  court.  Madame  de  Montespan 
is  remembered  in  the  name  of  a  hotel  which, 


Xll  PREFACE 

for  all  I  know,  replaces  the  comfortable  es- 
tablishment of  the  complaisant  Pierre  Gui; 
but  not  the  slightest  construction  of  any  sort 
evokes  the  memory  of  the  real  lady  of  Bour- 
bon. 

It  was  only  when  I  reached  the  church, 
situated  on  a  green  knoll  outside  the  town, 
that  I  touched  a  little  of  that  remote  past. 
Though  the  venerable  edifice  has  been  much 
restored,  parts  of  it  may  well  have  been 
standing  in  Flamenca's  time.  The  interior 
is  degraded  by  the  grossest  modern  poly- 
chroming,  but  I  remarked  certain  capitals 
which  belong  to  the  earliest  period  of  Gothic 
sculpture.  One,  representing  gnome-like 
musicians  playing  curious  instruments,  wind 
and  string,  brought  irresistibly  back  the  de- 
scription of  Flamenca's  wedding  feast,  when 
"harpers  harped,  fifers  fifed  .  .  .  and  all 
performed  so  well  that  a  great  uproar  reigned 
in  the  hall."  Placing  myself  in  the  choir, 
as  nearly  as  possible  where,  it  seemed  to  me, 
Guillem  must  have  stood  when  he  heard 


PREFACE  Xlll 

mass  there  for  the  first  time,  I  too  waited  for 
Flamenca  to  appear.  It  was,  no  doubt,  one 
of  those  lesser  feasts,  "for  which  Flamenca 
would  no  more  have  set  foot  out  of  doors 
than  for  that  of  a  simple  martyr  not  in  the 
calendar";  for  I  waited  in  vain.  Never  a 
glint  of  her  golden  hair  crossed  the  threshold. 
So  I  was  obliged  to  leave  Bourbon-l'Archam- 
bault  no  richer  than  I  had  gone  there,  and 
finish  my  little  book  without  her  aid. 

W.  A.  B. 
Paris,  May,  1922. 


THE  STORY  OF  FLAMENCA 


THE  STORY  OF  FLAMENCA 
I 

COUNT  Guy  of  Nemours  had  a  daughter, 
Flamenca,  whose  beauty  was  such  that  the 
fame  of  it  passed  into  every  land,  and  all  who 
heard  thereof  would  fain  have  her  for  wife. 
Many  sent  messengers  to  make  their  suit: 
knights,  nobles,  and  even  the  Slav  king,  who 
offered  to  ally  himself  with  the  count  and 
aid  him  against  his  enemies. 

But  Guy,  who  loved  his  daughter,  did  not 
wish  her  to  depart  so  far  thence. 

"I  would  rather,"  he  said,  "she  were  a 
simple  chatelaine,  and  see  her  each  week  or 

3 


4  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

month  or  even  year,  than  a  queen  and  lose 
her  forever." 

Thus,  in  the  end,  he  made  choice  of  Archam- 
baut,  lord  of  Bourbon,  whose  friendship  he 
had  long  sought,  and  than  whom  no  better 
knight  girded  on  sword  from  there  to  the 
end  of  the  world 

Now  when  Archambaut  heard  these  tid- 
ings, how  the  count  would  have  him  for  son, 
and  none  other;  and  when  he  learned,  too, 
from  his  messengers,  that  the  hundredth  part 
had  not  been  told  him  of  the  damsel's  beauty, 
he  rejoiced  greatly  and  set  out  with  a  fair 
following  of  one  hundred  knights  and  four 
hundred  squires,  all  mounted,  for  Nemours. 

He  arrived  there  three  days  before  the 
time  appointed  for  his  wedding,  and  when 
he  saw  Flamenca  he  felt  his  heart  inflamed, 
all  flooded  over  with  a  sweet  amorous  fire. 
Trembling  without,  he  burned  within;  and 
though  that  of  which  he  suffered  was  not  a 
fever,  yet  might  it  have  proved  fatal,  had 
he  not  found  for  it  a  speedy  cure. 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  5 

Three  nights  he  did  not  sleep,  and  Sunday 
morning  he  was  already  clad  and  shod  be- 
times when  the  count,  entering  his  room, 
gave  him  good  morrow  from  Flamenca. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "if  you  would  see  the 
damsel  in  her  bower." 

Then  he  took  Archambaut  by  the  hand, 
and  led  him  to  Flamenca,  who  was  no  whit 
confused,  but  only  a  little  blushing. 

"Here  is  your  bride,  lord  Archambaut," 
said  the  count.  "Take  her  if  you  will." 

"Sir,"  he  answered,  "if  there  be  no 
hindrance  in  her,  never  took  I  aught  so 
willingly." 

Then  the  damsel,  smiling,  said  to  her 
father: 

"Sir,  you  show  clearly  you  hold  me  in 
your  power,  who  dispose  of  me  so  lightly. 
But,  since  it  is  your  will,  I  consent." 

At  this  word,  "consent,"  Archambaut  felt 
such  joy  that  he  could  not  keep  from  taking 
her  hand  and  pressing  it. 

Thereupon   they  departed.     Archambaut 


6  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

knew  right  well  with  whom  he  had  left  the 
heart  he  bore  not  back  with  him  again. 
Without  once  quitting  the  damsel  with  his 
eyes,  he  drew  towards  the  door,  where  he 
bade  her  farewell.  Nor  was  Flamenca  dis- 
dainful, but  smiled  at  him  and  repeated 
graciously:  "God  keep  you." 

Five  bishops  and  ten  abbotts,  in  their 
robes,  awaited  them  in  the  church,  to  marry 
them.  When  they  had  done  this  and  said 
mass,  all  went  to  partake  of  the  feast  that 
had  been  prepared.  Lord  Archambaut  and 
the  count  served  at  this  feast;  but  the  eyes 
of  the  first  wandered  oft  to  where  his  heart 
was,  and,  could  he  have  had  his  way,  he  would 
have  bidden  the  guests  arise  from  the  table 
before  they  had  half  fed. 

When  the  feast  was  finished  and  the  table 
was  cleared,  the  jongleurs  began.  Some 
sang,  others  played.  All  this  was  a  sore  trial 
for  lord  Archambaut  and,  had  not  the  night 
made  him  amends,  I  think  that  neither  by 


THE    STORY   OF   FLAMENCA  J 

food  nor  by  drink,  would  his  life  ever  have 
been  restored. 

The  feast  lasted  more  than  eight  days. 
Lord  Archambaut  was  happy,  for  he  now 
had  what  he  most  desired,  nor  was  he  beset 
by  other  care  than  to  serve  her  whom  he 
wished  to  honor  and  please.  Had  it  not  been 
for  manly  shame  which  restrained  him,  he 
would  fain  have  tired  her  and  handed  her 
himself  her  gown,  her  comb,  and  her  mirror. 

When,  at  length,  he  saw  the  feast  was 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  it  would  ill  beseem 
him  to  stay  longer,  he  took  his  leave  and 
set  out  straight  for  Bourbon,  to  prepare 
his  own  feast,  which  he  wished  to  make  of 
such  surpassing  splendour  that  the  other 
would  no  longer  be  spoken  of. 

He  sent  messengers  to  the  king  of  France, 
pressing  him  to  come  and  bring  his  queen 
with  him.  He  bade  them  say  to  the  king 
that,  if  he  would  deign  to  pass  by  Nemours, 
and  lead  with  him  the  lady  Flamenca,  he 
would  be  his  forever. 


8  THE    STORY   OF   FLAMENCA 

Then  Archambaut  caused  the  city  to  be 
decked,  and  the  streets  hung  with  banners 
and  fine  tapestries,  with  silk  and  with 
samite.  Gold,  silver,  clothes,  and  all  things 
else  were,  by  his  order,  brought  together  to 
be  given  freely  to  whoever  might  deign  to 
accept  them. 

Five  hundred  suits  of  raiment,  of  purple 
and  fine  gold,  a  thousand  lances  and  a 
thousand  shields,  a  thousand  spears  and  a 
thousand  coats  of  mail,  were  made  ready 
in  the  armory,  and  a  thousand  steeds  were 
held  waiting  in  their  stalls,  for  those  whom 
lord  Archambaut  would  make  knights. 

The  king  came  with  a  great  array,  and 
led  Flamenca  with  him.  More  than  six 
leagues,  more  than  seven,  reached  the  great 
company;  and,  before  all  the  rest,  rode  the 
count's  son,  Flamenca's  brother.  For  he 
wished  to  be  the  first  to  greet  Archambaut, 
who  rode  forth  to  the  encounter  right  well 
attended  with  a  thousand  knights,  a  thou- 
sand burghers,  and  a  thousand  varlets. 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  9 

Each  welcomed  the  king  and  besought 
him  to  lodge  with  him.  He  refused 
saying: 

"You  press  me  in  vain,  for  I  have  the 
lady  Flamenca  in  my  keeping;  but  my 
barons  will  gladly  make  their  abode  with 
you." 

So,  at  the  end,  all  were  lodged,  and  no 
man  kept  his  door  closed.  The  queen  had 
a  good  pavillion,  and  Flamenca  was  her 
neighbour. 

At  the  ninth  hour  all  went  to  meat,  and 
took  with  them  good  appetites.  Fish  of 
every  sort  was  served,  and  whatever  else 
is  fitting  for  fast-days,  including  the  fruits 
that  are  in  season  in  the  month  of  June, 
both  pears  and  cherries.  The  king  sent  a 
present  of  two  pieces  of  agate  to  Flamenca, 
who  thanked  him  graciously  when  the  repast 
was  over. 

The  next  day  was  the  feast  of  Saint  John, 
and  it  was  not  permitted  to  pass  without 
due  observance.  The  bishop  of  Cleremont 


IO  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

said  high  mass  and  preached  a  sermon  on 
Our  Lord,  how  He  loved  Saint  John  so  well 
He  called  him  more  than  prophet.  Then 
a  herald  proclaimed,  in  the  king's  name, 
that  none  should  leave  the  court  before 
a  fortnight,  for  any  reason,  however 
weighty. 

When  they  had  heard  mass,  the  king  spoke 
with  Flamenca,  and  led  her  from  the  church. 
After  him  followed  full  three  thousand 
knights,  each  leading  a  lady. 

Together  they  went  to  the  great  hall 
where  the  feast  was  spread.  When  they  had 
washed  their  hands,  they  were  seated,  not 
on  bare  benches,  but  on  cushions  covered 
with  cloth;  and  the  napkins  on  which  they 
dried  their  hands  were  not  coarse  and  rough, 
but  fine  and  soft  to  the  touch. 

The  guests  were  served  with  all  manner 
of  meats.  Each  had  what  he  most  liked,  and 
so  much  that  he  who  had  least  had  no 
reason  to  envy  him  who  had  more.  Yet 
there  were  above  five  hundred  who  gazed 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  II 

with  wonder  upon  Flamenca  and  who,  while 
they  fed  their  eyes  upon  her  fair  face,  let 
their  mouths  go  hungry. 

No  one  there  could  compare  with  Fla- 
menca. For,  just  as  the  sun  is  supreme  by 
virtue  of  his  splendour,  so  did  she  take  rank 
above  all  the  other  ladies  by  reason  of  her 
beauty.  Her  color  was  so  fresh,  her  look 
so  gentle  and  gracious,  her  discourse  so  wise 
and  so  witty,  that  the  noblest  and  liveliest 
among  them  remained  as  if  dumb  and  deem- 
ing herself  vanquished.  They  said  that  one 
would  strive  in  vain  to  appear  beautiful  by 
the  side  of  this  lady.  And,  when  they 
praised  her,  you  may  believe  she  was  indeed 
fair;  for,  in  all  the  world,  there  are  not  three 
to  whom  the  others  will  accord  beauty,  and 
praise  it. 

When  all  had  eaten  they  again  washed 
their  hands,  but  remained  seated  where  they 
were,  and  partook  of  the  wine;  for  such 
was  the  custom  in  those  days.  The  cloths 
being  removed,  great  mirrors — those  good 


12  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

counsellors! — were  brought  and  placed  on 
tall  standards  before  the  guests,  so  that 
each  might  arrange  his  dress  according  to 
his  liking.  Then  the  jongleurs  arose,  each 
wishing  to  make  himself  heard. 

He  who  knew  a  new  piece  for  the  viol, 
a  song,  a  lai,  or  a  descant,  did  his  best  to 
prevail  above  the  others.  Harpers  harped, 
fifers  fifed.  Some  sang  the  words,  while 
their  fellows  played  the  notes.  Both  did 
their  best  and  all  performed  so  well  that  a 
great  uproar  reigned  in  the  hall. 

Then  the  king  said: 

"Sir  knights,  when  the  squires  have  eaten, 
cause  your  steeds  to  be  saddled,  and  we 
shall  go  to  the  jousting.  While  we  wait, 
I  would  have  the  queen  lead  one  dance  with 
Flamenca,  and  I  too  will  dance,  with  the 
others." 

Thereupon  knights,  ladies,  and  damsels 
took  one  another  by  the  hand.  Never,  in 
France  or  in  Brittany,  had  been  seen  a 
dance  so  splendid.  Two  hundred  jongleurs, 


THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA  IJ 

good  players  of  the  viol,  took  their  places  in 
pairs  on  the  benches,  and  ran  the  sets  with- 
out missing  a  note. 

Now  the  squires  had  saddled  and  decked 
and  led  around  the  chargers.  When  these 
were  seen,  the  dancing  ceased,  for  never  was 
so  brave  a  sight.  Each  knight  had  his  squire 
bring  him  his  arms.  Nor  did  the  ladies  de- 
part thence,  but  stayed  and  found  for  them- 
selves places  in  the  windows  to  look  out  upon 
those  who  battled  for  their  sake. 

As  for  lord  Archambaut,  he  lost  no  time 
but,  with  his  own  hand,  dubbed  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety-seven  knights,  who  went 
forthwith  on  foot  to  the  palace  in  silken 
shoon  and  presented  themselves  to  the  king. 
He,  for  handsel,  gave  them  this  wish,  that 
they  should  suffer  no  greater  pain  than  love 
might  give  them.  And  the  queen  said  like- 
wise. 

This  day  the  king  himself  bore  arms.  At 
the  tip  of  his  lance  he  had  fastened  a  sleeve. 
The  queen  gave  no  sign  that  she  was  dis- 


14  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

pleased  by  this  token,  but  she  said  to  herself 
that,  if  she  knew  who  had  given  it  to  the 
king,  she  would  make  her  rue  the  favor  she 
had  bestowed.  In  her  heart  she  believed  it 
was  Flamenca  and  sent  for  lord  Archambaut, 
who  presented  himself  fully  armed  before 
her. 

"My  lord,"  said  she,  taking  him  by  the 
hand  and  seating  him  beside  her  in  the 
window,  "I  am  ill  at  ease  and  need  your 
counsel." 

"Your  highness,"  returned  he,  "may  God 
keep  you." 

Then  the  queen,  touching  Flamenca, 
seated  nearbye,  said: 

"My  lady,  I  would  speak  alone  with  lord 
Archambaut." 

"Willingly,  madam,  since  you  wish  it," 
replied  Flamenca. 

At  the  next  window  sat  the  countess  of 
Nevers  who,  when  she  saw  Flamenca  draw 
near,  greeted  her  and  made  her  a  cushion  of 
her  own  mantle.  Flamenca,  thanking  her, 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  15 

sat  down  beside  her,  and  looked  out  upon 
the  jousting. 

The  queen  lost  no  time  but  broke  forth 
in  bitter  rage: 

"My  lord  Archambaut,  is  it  not  most 
unseemly  for  the  king  to  wear  thus,  beneath 
my  very  eyes,  an  amorous  devise?  Me- 
thinks  it  is  an  affront  to  you,  no  less  than 
to  me." 

Archambaut  saw  clearly  that  she  suspected 
Flamenca  of  having  given  the  sleeve  to  the 
king. 

"By  Christ,  my  lady,"  he  hastened  to 
answer,  "I  can  not  see  that  the  king  dis- 
honours either  you  or  me  in  thus  bearing  the 
badge  of  love.  With  him  it  is  but  knightly 
duty." 

"My  lord,  that  is  an  excuse  of  which  you 
yourself  will  have  good  need  before  another 
fortnight  be  past." 

"Nay,  madam,  seek  not  to  make  me 
jealous  where  there  is  no  need." 

"Do    you    think    then,"    demanded    the 


l6  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

queen,  frowning,  "that  you  too  will  not  feel 
the  pangs  of  jealousy?  By  my  faith,  that 
you  shall,  and  not,  perchance,  without  good 
cause." 

At  that  moment  a  jongleur  drew  near 
Archambaut  and  addressed  him,  saying: 

"  Sir,  the  king  desires  to  bestow  arms  upon 
Thibaut,  count  of  Blois,  and  I  come  from 
Thibaut  himself,  who  prays  you  to  join 
him." 

Lord  Archambaut  took  his  leave  of  the 
queen  more  troubled  than  he  let  her  see. 
He  was,  indeed,  in  a  bad  humour  because  of 
what  she  had  said;  and,  when  he  had  seen 
Thibaut  and  more  than  four  hundred  others 
knighted  by  the  king,  he  summoned  his 
squire: 

"Have  the  bells  rung  for  vespers,"  he 
ordered.  "It  will  be  time  to  sup  when  the 
king  has  heard  them." 

When  the  ladies,  seated  at  the  windows, 
heard  the  bells,  they  cried: 

"Why,  it  is  not  yet  none,  and  already 


THE    STORY   OF   FLAMENCA  IJ 

they  are  ringing  vespers!  May  she  lose  her 
husband  who  stirs  a  step  while  yet  one 
knight  is  left  in  the  lists!  Never  shall  I 
leave  the  tiltyard  for  vespers!" 

The  king  entered  at  that  moment  and, 
going  graciously  up  to  Flamenca,  led  her 
away.  The  barons  followed  him  and  led 
the  ladies  to  church.  When  the  office  was 
ended,  the  king  brought  Flamenca  back 
and  playfully  placed  his  hand  upon  her 
breast. 

The  queen  was  very  wroth  at  this,  and 
lord  Archambaut  also,  though  he  gave  no 
sign. 

Then  they  supped.  The  tables  were  fur- 
nished with  roast  meats,  with  fruits,  with 
fresh  roses  and  violets,  and  with  snow  and 
ice  to  cool  the  wine,  that  it  might  not  banish 
sleep.  All  were  tired  with  the  diversions  of 
this  day,  and  soon  went  to  seek  repose  till 
the  morrow. 

The  next  morning,  at  daybreak,  the  new- 
made  knights,  clad  in  their  gear,  rode  through 


1 8  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

the  streets,  ringing  bells  of  every  sort. 
They  made  a  fine  hubbub,  and  Archambaut's 
trouble  grew  as  he  heard  it.  In  his  heart 
was  such  grief  he  was  like  to  die  thereof. 
Yet  he  sought  to  hold  himself  in  leash, 
blaming  the  queen  for  the  suspicions  she 
had  sown  in  his  breast,  and  concealing  his 
feelings  from  the  others. 

Nineteen  days  the  feast  lasted,  and  all 
marvelled  whence  Archambaut  could  draw 
the  great  treasure  he  gave  in  largesse.  On 
the  twentieth  day  the  king  and  queen  took 
their  departure;  for  the  queen  did  not  wish 
the  feast  to  last  the  full  month,  now  that 
she  believed  the  king  to  be  in  love  with 
Flamenca;  but  the  king  did  not  love  with 
real  love,  and  thought  only  to  honor  lord 
Archambaut  when,  in  the  presence  of  his 
host,  he  embraced  Flamenca,  and  kissed  her. 

Archambaut  set  his  guests  upon  their  way 
right  courteously,  but  his  heart  was  gnawed 
by  sharp  jealous  pangs.  As  he  rode  back, 
he  raved  wildly  and,  when  he  had  returned, 


THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA  Ip 

his  companions  left  him,  thinking  he  had 
lost  his  senses.  Alone,  he  cried: 

"Alas,  of  what  was  I  thinking  when  I 
took  unto  myself  a  wife!  Good  God,  I  was 
mad.  Had  I  not  everything  I  needed  to 
make  me  happy?  A  curse  on  my  friends 
and  family  who  counselled  me  that  which 
is  ever  for  men  a  source  of  sorrow.  Now, 
indeed,  I  have  a  wife;  but  much  good  does 
she  do  me,  who  consumes  me  with  jealousy." 

Lord  Archambaut  was  in  an  evil  case. 
Leaving  all  his  affairs  in  disorder,  he  made 
great  dole  when  anyone  came  to  the  castle, 
and  could  hardly  keep  from  throwing  him 
out  head-first.  In  every  visitor  he  feared  a 
rival.  If  one  so  much  as  spoke  to  his  wife, 
he  thought  to  see  her  ravished  before  his 
eyes. 

"That  is  how  all  this  came  to  pass.  The 
king  chose  well  his  moment.  Even  before 
they  left  Nemours  I  believe  he  essayed  her. 
I  thought  I  had  naught  to  fear  from  him,  or 
I  should  have  known  how  to  guard  her  against 


2O  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

his  devices.  Now  as  many  as  wish  can  come 
and  go,  and  there  are  never  enough  for  her 
liking. 

"Mark  the  welcome  she  gives  them!  She 
shows  clearly  she  is  no  longer  mine.  Alas, 
unhappy  wretch  that  I  am!  Cursed  be  the 
hour  wherein  I  was  born!  The  queen  knew 
well  what  she  was  saying,  when  she  told  me 
I  would  be  jealous.  Curses  on  her,  too, 
prophetess  of  evil!" 

Then  he  broke  into  a  great  rage,  tearing 
his  hair,  biting  his  lips,  gnashing  his  teeth, 
and  glaring  fiercely  at  Flamenca.  Scarce 
could  he  keep  from  cutting  off  her  gleaming 
golden  tresses. 

"My  lord,  what  ails  you?"  she  asked  him. 

"What!  Christ!  I  die,  and  you  mock  me! 
This  is  the  work  of  these  brave  gallants  who 
come  to  see  you;  but,  by  my  faith,  they  will 
no  longer  find  the  way  open  to  you.  He  who 
takes  a  wife  has  his  trouble  for  naught  if  he 
put  her  not  in  some  safe  place  and  keep  guard 
over  her.  This  shall  I  do.  The  tower  is  high, 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  21 

the  wall  is  wide,  and  here  you  shall  stay  with 
only  your  damsels  to  keep  you  company." 

He  delayed  not,  but,  sending  for  a  mason, 
led  him  straight  to  Flamenca's  tower.  There 
he  ordered  him  to  cut  a  window  into  the 
kitchen,  that  her  food  might  be  passed 
through  to  her,  and  that  he  himself  might 
spy  upon  his  wife  the  more  easily. 

The  sweet  child  now  knew  not  what  to 
do.  Her  life  henceforth  was  little  better 
than  death.  If  her  days  were  bad,  her  nights 
were  worse,  holding  naught  for  her  but 
weariness.  She  had  to  wait  upon  her  two 
pretty  maids,  whose  sorrows  equalled  hers, 
for  they  too  were  prisoners.  Gentle  and  kind, 
they  did  what  they  could  to  comfort  their 
mistress,  and  thinking  only  of  the  love  they 
bore  her,  they  forgot  their  own  pain.  The 
name  of  one  of  these  damsels  was  Alis,  of 
the  other,  Margarida. 

God  sent  great  grief  unto  Flamenca. 
Many  sighs  and  much  agony  of  heart  were 
hers  because  of  her  husband,  and  she  shed 


22  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

bitter  tears,  being  filled  with  sadness  and 
affliction.  Yet  one  signal  mark  of  grace  He 
bestowed  upon  her  that,  having  no  child, 
He  put  not  love  into  her  heart.  For,  loving, 
and  having  naught  whereon  to  nourish  her 
love,  she  would  have  suffered  more  sorely. 

Long  time  she  lived  thus  afflicted,  never 
passing  the  door  save  on  Sundays  and  feast 
days.  Even  in  church  neither  knight  nor 
clerk  could  speak  with  her.  For  Archam- 
baut  kept  her  ever  in  a  dark  corner  behind 
a  wide  screen  he  had  built  to  the  level  of  her 
chin.  He  did  not  let  her  go  to  the  altar  for 
Communion,  but  made  the  priest  bring  the 
offering,  which  he  gave  her  himself.  A  little 
clerk  gave  her  the  pax,  and  he,  at  least,  might 
have  got  a  glimpse  of  her,  had  he  but  known 
how  to  manage  it. 

After  the  words:  Ite  missa  est,  Archam- 
baut  left  without  waiting  for  sixte  or  none. 

"Come,  come,"  he  said  to  the  young 
women,  "Let  me  dine  at  once.  Do  not  keep 
me  waiting." 


THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA  23 

He  did  not  even  give  them  time  to  say 
their  prayers. 

Thus  passed  two  years.  Every  day  the 
poor  prisoners  saw  their  pain  redoubled, 
while  Archambaut  swore  and  groaned 
and  guarded  them  both  morning  and 
night. 

II 

Now  at  this  time,  while  Archambaut 
was  thus  jealous  and,  in  all  Auvergne,  songs, 
sirventes,  couplets,  and  sonnets  were  made 
upon  him,  there  dwelt  in  Burgundy  a  knight 
whom  Nature  had  delighted  to  fashion  and 
instruct.  Nor  had  she  failed  in  this  task, 
for  never  has  been  seen  a  youth  so  fair  of 
person  or  of  goodlier  mien. 

He  had  light  curling  hair,  broad  white 
forehead,  dark  arching  brows,  black  laugh- 
ing eyes,  and  nose  as  straight  as  the  stock 
of  an  arbalest.  His  shoulders  were  broad, 
his  muscles  strong.  When  he  jousted,  none 
could  sustain  the  shock  of  his  assault.  Lifting 


24  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

his  foe  from  the  saddle,  he  passed  on  bearing 
him  at  the  end  of  his  lance. 

He  had  studied  at  Paris  and  learned  there 
so  much  of  the  seven  arts  that  he  could  have 
taught  school  anywhere.  He  could  both 
read  and  write,  and  spoke  English  better 
than  any  clerk.  His  name  was  Guillem  de 
Nevers. 

Guillem  was  at  all  points  a  good  knight. 
He  led  a  fair  following  to  the  tourney,  took 
captives  and  made  prizes.  What  he  thus 
won  he  spent  and  gave  away  freely  in  pres- 
ents. He  loved  gaming,  dogs,  falcons — all 
pleasant  things,  in  short,  and  suited  to  his 
estate.  One  only  he  lacked,  and  that  was 
any  experience  of  love. 

He  had  read  all  the  poets  who  treat  thereof 
and  instruct  lovers.  From  them  he  had 
learned  that,  without  love,  one  could  not 
lead  the  life  ordained  for  noble  youth,  and 
often  he  dreamed  of  engaging  in  some  high 
adventure  that  would  bring  him  both  pleas- 
ure and  honour. 


THE    STORY   OF   FLAMENCA  25 

Thus  it  happened  that,  when  Guillem 
heard  how  Flamenca  was  held  prisoner  by 
her  jealous  husband,  his  heart  spoke,  and 
said  to  him  that,  were  he  but  able  to  speak 
with  her,  he  might,  perchance,  enjoy  her  love. 

Long  he  pondered  upon  this.  Then,  one 
night,  Love  appearing  in  a  dream,  urged  him 
to  the  adventure  and  made  him  fair  promises. 
Next  day  Guillem  set  forth,  with  his  com- 
panions, for  Bourbon. 

Now  there  were  baths  at  Bourbon  in  those 
days,  where  all  could  come  and  bathe  at 
their  ease.  A  tablet  in  each  bath  made  known 
the  properties  of  the  water  both  hot  and  cold, 
that  sprang  from  two  spouts,  and  over  it  was 
built  a  house,  with  quiet  rooms  wherein  to 
take  one's  ease. 

Of  these  baths  the  best  were  those  belong- 
ing to  Pierre  Gui,  a  right  honest  man  who 
was  on  terms  of  amity  with  lord  Archam- 
baut;  and  when  Guillem,  arriving  at  Bour- 
bon, demanded  where  he  might  lodge,  he  was 
directed  thither. 


26  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

The  goodman,  seated  at  the  door  of  his 
hostel,  seeing  the  youth  approach,  arose  and 
greeted  him  graciously,  while  his  wife,  Dame 
Bellapila,  invited  him  within  and  gave  him 
his  dinner.  When  he  had  eaten,  Pierre  Gui 
showed  him  his  rooms  and  gave  him  free 
choice  among  them. 

Guillem  wanted  one  thing  only,  which  was 
to  be  so  lodged  that  he  could  see  Flamenca's 
tower  from  his  window.  When  he  had  found 
this,  he  said,  dissembling: 

"This  room  pleases  me,  because  it  is 
larger  than  the  others,  and  of  a  more  agree- 
able aspect." 

"As  you  like,"  replied  his  host.  "Here 
you  will  be  undisturbed,  and  master  of  all 
you  do.  Count  Raoul  often  makes  this  room 
his  abode  when  he  comes  to  Bourbon;  but  it 
is  a  long  time  since  he  has  shown  himself 
here.  For  our  master,  who  was  so  good  a 
knight,  is  sadly  changed.  Since  he  took  him 
a  wife,  he  has  not  laced  helm  or  donned 
hauberk,  and  he  holds  the  world  as  naught. 


THE   STORY   OF   FLAMENCA  1J 

I  doubt  not,  however,  you  have  heard  these 
things  reported  of  him." 

"I  have,  indeed,  heard  them  spoken  of," 
replied  Guillem,  "but  I  have  far  other  con- 
cerns. I  suffer  from  a  sore  ailment,  and  if 
the  waters  here  heal  me  not,  I  know  not 
what  I  shall  do  to  be  cured." 

"Rest  assured  as  to  that,  fair  sir,"  an- 
swered Pierre  Gui.  "Know  that  no  one, 
however  sick,  comes  to  our  baths  without 
going  away  cured,  if  only  he  stay  long 
enough." 

The  room  was  large  and  clean  and  well 
furnished.  There  wanted  neither  bed  nor 
hearth  nor  aught  else  for  comfort.  Guil- 
lem caused  all  his  belongings  to  be  brought 
and  placed  therein.  Then,  when  his  host 
had  retired,  he  dismissed  his  squires,  in- 
structing them  to  let  none  know  his  name, 
saying  simply  that  he  was  from  Besangon. 

It  was  the  night  after  Easter,  the  season 
when  the  nightingale  accuses  with  his  songs 
those  who  have  no  care  of  love.  One  sang 


28  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

in  the  grove  near  Guillem's  window,  and  the 
young  man  could  not  close  his  eyes,  though 
his  couch  was  white  and  soft  and  wide. 

"Ah  Love,"  he  sighed,  "what  will  become 
of  me?  At  your  behest,  leaving  my  own 
people,  I  have  come  into  this  country  a 
pilgrim,  a  stranger.  Sighing  without  cease, 
I  suffer  from  a  desire  that  has  taken  fast 
hold  of  my  heat.  I  feign  sickness  now, 
it  is  true;  but  I  shall  need  to  feign  it  no 
longer,  if  I  am  not  soon  cured  of  this  ill." 

Then,  as  day  was  beginning  to  break, 
and  his  bed  brought  him  no  repose,  he  arose, 
crossed  himself,  and  prayed  to  Saint  Blaise, 
Saint  Martin,  Saint  George,  Saint  Genies, 
and  five  or  six  other  saints  who  were  gentle 
knights,  that  they  might  make  intercession 
for  him.  Before  beginning  to  dress,  he  opened 
his  window  and  looked  upon  the  tower  where 
his  lady  languished. 

"O  lady  tower,"  he  cried,  "you  are  beau- 
tiful without  and  pure  and  white  within. 
Would  to  God  I  were  inside  your  walls,  so 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  2g 

as  not  to  be  seen  of  Archambaut,  of  Mar- 
garida,  or  of  Alis!" 

So  saying,  his  arms  fell,  his  feet  no  longer 
sustained  him,  his  color  fled,  and  he  fainted. 
One  of  his  squires,  seeing  him  about  to  fall, 
seized  him,  held  him  close,  and  bore  him  to 
the  bed.  The  squire  was  greatly  frightened, 
for  he  could  not  feel  the  beat  of  his  master's 
heart.  This  was  because  Love  had  trans- 
ported his  spirit  to  Flamenca's  tower,  where 
Guillem  held  her  in  his  arms,  and  caressed  her 
so  gently  she  was  not  aware  of  it.  Then  his 
soul,  having  had  its  will,  returned  to  his  body, 
which  was  not  long  in  reviving. 

It  was  clear  he  had  come  back  from  a 
place  full  of  delight,  for  he  was  more  blithe 
and  beautiful  than  before.  The  young 
squire  had  wept  so  much  that  his  master's 
face  was  wet  with  his  tears. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  drying  his  eyes,  "I  have 
been  sore  troubled." 

"Ah,  my  friend,"  sighed  Guillem,  "your 
concern  was  occasioned  by  my  happiness." 


JO  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

Clad  in  breeches  and  shirt,  he  took  his 
place  once  more  in  the  window,  throwing 
over  his  shoulders  a  mantle  of  vair  trimmed 
with  gris.  The  tower  stood  to  the  right,  and 
naught  could  turn  Guillem  from  it,  while 
putting  on  his  shoes — elegant  buskins  fash- 
ioned at  Douai. 

He  called  for  his  ewer.  Then,  when  he 
had  washed,  he  laced  up  his  sleeves  with  a 
silver  bodkin.  Over  all  he  passed  a  cape  of 
black  silk,  and  studied  carefully  the  figure 
he  made. 

As  he  was  thus  occupied,  his  host  entered 
to  lead  him  to  the  church.  There  Guillem, 
kneeling  at  the  altar  of  Saint  Clement, 
prayed  devoutly  to  God,  as  also  to  Mary, 
to  Michael,  and  to  all  the  saints,  to  aid  him. 
Then,  taking  a  psalter,  he  opened  it.  Straight 
way  he  came  upon  a  verse  which  filled  him 
with  delight:  "Dilexi  quoniam." 

"God  knows  well  what  I  desire,"  he  ex- 
claimed, closing  the  book.  He  made  careful 
note  of  the  place  where  his  lady  would  sit, 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  3 1 

and  prayed  that  naught  might  keep  her  from 
coming. 

When  it  was  time  for  mass,  Guillem  took 
his  place,  with  his  host,  in  the  choir,  where 
he  could  look  out  through  a  little  opening, 
without  being  seen.  His  heart  beat  loudly 
as  he  awaited  the  arrival  of  Flamenca;  and, 
at  each  shadow  that  fell  across  the  doorway, 
he  thought  Archambaut  was  about  to  enter. 

Everyone  else  had  arrived,  and  the  third 
bell  had  rung,  when  the  jealous  husband, 
uncouth  and  unkempt,  entered  the  church. 
Beside  him,  but  keeping  well  her  distance, 
for  it  was  clear  he  filled  her  with  disgust, 
came  Flamenca. 

She  paused  an  instant  on  the  threshold, 
to  make  her  reverence,  and  then  it  was,  for 
the  first  time,  that  Guillem  saw  his  lady. 
He  ceased  to  gaze  upon  her  only  when  she 
passed  behind  her  screen.  Then  he  knelt 
with  the  others. 

"Asperges  me,"  proclaimed  the  priest. 
Guillem  took  up  the  response  at  the 


32  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

"Domine,"  and  sang  it  clear  through. 
Never  before  had  it  been  so  well  sung  in  that 
church. 

The  priest  left  the  choir,  followed  by  a 
clerk  bearing  the  holy  water.  When  he  came 
to  Flamenca,  he  did  his  best  to  spray  her 
across  the  screen,  and  she  uncovered  a 
little  her  hair,  where  it  was  parted  in  the 
middle,  the  better  to  receive  the  water  on 
her  forehead.  Her  skin  showed  white  and 
fine,  and  the  golden  crown  of  her  hair,  where 
the  sun  chanced  to  strike  it  with  one  of  his 
rays,  at  that  instant,  shone  resplendent. 
At  the  sight  of  this  splendid  sample  of  what 
love  held  in  store  for  him,  Guillem  trembled 
with  joy,  and  intoned  the  "Signum  salutis." 

The  priest  then  returned  to  the  altar  and 
said  the  "Confiteor,"  with  his  little  clerk. 
At  the  Evangel,  Flamenca  arose.  At  first 
a  burgher,  to  Guillem 's  disgust,  stood  in 
front  of  her;  but  God  willed  him  to  move 
to  one  side,  that  she  might  be  seen  unob- 
scured.  To  cross  herself,  she  lowered  a  little 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  33 

the  band  which  covered  her  mouth  and  chin, 
and  with  one  finger  loosened  the  latchets 
of  her  mantle.  Guillem  gazed  at  her  bare 
hand  which  seemed  to  steal  his  heart  from 
his  breast  and  bear  it  away.  The  emotion 
which  seized  him  was  so  strong  that  he  was 
like  to  faint  of  it. 

By  good  fortune,  he  found  at  his  feet  a 
stool  on  which  to  kneel,  as  if  in  prayer. 
He  stayed  thus,  quite  still,  till  the  little 
clerk  gave  him  the  pax.  When,  in  her  turn, 
Flamenca  kissed  the  breviary,  Guillem  saw, 
for  a  moment,  her  red  mouth,  and  the  sight 
filled  him  with  sweet  joy. 

When  the  clerk  had  finished  giving  the 
pax,  Guillem  considered  how  he  might  gain 
possession  of  the  book. 

"My  friend,"  he  whispered  to  the  clerk, 
"have  you  a  calendar?  I  wish  to  learn  on 
what  day  falls  Pentecost." 

The  youth  handed  him  the  book,  but  Guil- 
lem gave  small  heed  to  the  day  of  the  month 
or  the  year.  He  turned  the  leaves  from  end 


34  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

to  end,  and  would  fain  have  kissed  them  all 
for  the  sake  of  one,  could  he  have  done  so 
without  being  remarked. 

"Clerk,"  he  asked,  "where  is  it  that  you 
give  the  pax?  Is  it  not  in  the  psalter?" 

"Here  is  the  place,  sir,"  the  clerk  an- 
swered, and  showed  it  to  Guillem  who,  kneel- 
ing again  as  if  in  prayer,  kissed  the  page  more 
than  a  thousand  times,  and  did  not  cease 
from  his  devotions  till  the  priest  had  said: 
"Itemissa." 

Archambaut  left  the  church  without  de- 
lay, forcing  Flamenca  to  follow  with  her 
damsels.  Guillem  waited  for  the  priest  to 
finish  none,  then  addressed  him  courteously: 

"Sir,"  he  said,  'I  demand  a  boon.  Dine 
with  me  today  at  my  hostel,  and  hereafter, 
as  long  as  I  stay,  be  my  guest  at  table." 

The  priest  consented  gladly,  and  all  three 
repaired  at  once  to  the  hostel,  where  dinner 
awaited  them. 

When  they  had  finished  and  the  table  was 
cleared,  Guillem  sent  one  of  his  squires  to 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  35 

fetch  the  gifts  he  had  designed  for  his  host  and 
hostess.  To  the  former  he  gave  a  long  belt 
with  a  buckle  of  French  make,  worth  more 
than  a  silver  mark;  to  the  latter,  a  piece  of 
stuff  to  fashion  a  summer  mantle.  So  grate- 
ful were  they  for  these  gifts  that  they  prom- 
ised to  do  all  in  their  power  to  serve  Guillem. 
They  even  offered  to  move  out  of  their  house 
and  leave  it  all  to  him,  should  he  so  desire. 

He  accepted  gladly.  Then,  turning  to  the 
priest,  Dom  Justin,  he  said:  "I  ask  you  now 
to  cut  the  hair  from  the  top  of  my  head,  and 
make  me  a  tonsure  such  as  I  had  before.  I 
am  a  canon  of  Peronne,  and  would  return 
now  to  that  estate." 

The  priest  could  scarce  answer  at  first,  so 
surprised  was  he  at  Guillem's  request;  but, 
while  the  others  wept  to  see  the  young  man 
thus  despoiled  of  his  golden  crown,  the  little 
clerk,  whose  name  was  Nicholas,  held  the 
basin,  and  Dom  Justin  shore  off  the  locks 
with  sharp  shears,  clipping  the  hair  close 
about  the  neck,  and  making  a  large  tonsure. 


36  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

Guillem  gave  the  priest  a  gilded  goblet, 
worth  four  marks,  as  his  reward. 

"The  barber,"  said  he,  "must  be  well  paid." 

"My  lord,  it  is  too  much!"  protested  the 
priest.  "Tell  me  what  I  can  do  to  merit 
more  fully  so  rich  a  gift." 

"Take  me  for  your  clerk,"  said  Guillem. 
"As  for  Nicholas,  here,  send  him  to  Paris  to 
study.  He  is  not  yet  too  old,  and  he  will 
learn  more  in  two  years  there  than  here  in 
three.  I  will  give  him  four  golden  marks  a 
year,  and  furnish  him  with  raiment." 

"My  lord,  blessed  be  the  day  we  first  met," 
cried  the  priest.  "Nothing  has  so  pained 
me  as  to  see  my  nephew  losing  time  precious 
for  his  studies.  Already  he  can  write  and 
make  verses,  and  when  he  has  studied  two 
years  he  will  know  twice  as  much.  As  for 
your  request,  you  shall  be  master,  and  I  will 
do  all  you  desire." 

"Nay,"  exclaimed  Guillem  hastily,  "you 
must  give  me  your  promise  to  treat  me  in 
all  ways  as  your  little  clerk.  Else  I  shall 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  37 

fail  of  my  purpose,  which  is  to  serve  humbly 
both  you  and  God  at  the  same  time." 

Then  he  instructed  the  priest  to  have 
fashioned  for  him  a  large  round  cape  of 
brown  silk  or  garbardine,  which  should 
cover  him  from  head  to  foot. 

"I  no  longer  wish  to  follow  the  fStes  of 
the  court,"  he  said,  "for  all  that  is  but  derision 
and  vain  smoke;  and  he  who  thinks  to  have 
gained  most  from  it,  finds  himself  poorest 
when  night  falls." 

Thus  preached  Isengrin.  Had  the  priest 
been  wilier  he  might  have  said,  with  Renard: 
"You  are  hiding  your  real  game."  But  he 
suspected  nothing,  and  went  out  with  the 
squires  to  order  the  cape. 

Next  morning,  after  mass,  Guillem  went 
to  the  baths.  There  he  examined  carefully 
the  soil,  and  found  it  was  of  tufa  so  soft  he 
could  cut  it  with  a  knife.  That  very  after- 
noon, when  his  hosts  had  moved  out,  he  sent 
to  Chatillon  secretly  for  some  laborers. 

Saturday  Nicholas  left,  and  Guillem  as- 


38  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

sisted  at  vespers.  At  first  he  held  his  cape 
a  little  high,  for  he  was  forever  placing  his 
hand  upon  his  hip,  as  had  been  his  habit; 
but  he  played  his  part  well,  and  Dom  Justin 
was  overjoyed  at  having  such  a  clerk  sent 
him  by  heaven. 

After  vespers  Guillem  went  over  with  the 
priest  the  lessons  and  responses  for  the  next 
morning. 

That  night  he  did  not  sleep.  At  the  first 
stroke  of  the  bell  for  matins,  he  arose  and 
ran  to  the  church,  where,  seizing  the  rope 
from  the  hands  of  the  priest,  he  finished 
ringing  lustily. 

After  matins  Dom  Justin  told  Guillem  he 
might  rest  a  little,  and  led  him  to  a  room, 
next  the  belfry,  which  had  belonged  to 
Nicholas;  but,  though  the  floor  was  strewn 
with  reeds  and  rushes,  he  could  not  close  his 
eyes,  for  now  a  new  care  assailed  him.  What 
should  he  say  to  his  lady,  when  he  gave  her 
the  pax? 

Long  he  lay  and  pondered,  calling  on  Love 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  39 

to  aid  him  at  this  pass.  At  last,  finding 
naught,  he  arose  and  went  out,  closing  the 
door  and  putting  the  key  on  the  shelf, 
whence  Dom  Justin  had  taken  it.  Then 
he  requested  a  beadle,  one  Vidal,  to  bring 
him  the  salt  for  the  holy  water.  While  mix- 
ing this,  the  priest  awoke,  and  Guillem  gave 
him  some  of  the  water  to  wash.  Then  they 
began  prime. 

When  they  had  sung  tierce  and  rung  again, 
the  people  began  to  come  for  mass.  After 
the  main  body,  as  usual,  arrived  Archam- 
baut,  followed  by  Flamenca,  who  passed 
behind  her  screen. 

Seeing  her,  Guillem  had  eyes  for  naught 
else.  He  did  not,  however,  neglect  his  duties. 
As  he  had  the  offices  by  heart,  these  were 
easy  for  him.  His  voice  was  fresh  and  clear, 
and  rang  out  as  he  sang  the  "Agnus  Dei." 
Then  he  took  the  book  and  offered  it  to  his 
host,  who  sat  in  the  choir.  Pierre  Gui  passed 
it  to  those  without,  and  the  pax  proceeded 
thus  through  the  church. 


4-O  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

Guillem  followed  the  book  as  it  went 
from  hand  to  hand;  but  he  moved  so  slowly 
through  the  press  that  Archambaut  had 
already  received  the  pax,  by  the  time  he 
reached  the  little  cell  that  held  his  treasure. 
Trembling,  without  daring  to  look  up,  he 
drew  near,  fully  resolved  to  say  at  least  a 
word,  yet  not  knowing,  even  now,  what  it 
would  be.  With  a  prayer  to  Love  to  aid  him, 
he  approached,  and  as  Flamenca  kissed  the 
psalter,  he  murmured:  "Alas!"  then  with- 
drew, his  head  humbly  bowed.  Had  he  dis- 
armed a  hundred  knights  in  a  tourney,  he 
would  have  been  less  happy. 

His  joy  was  great,  but  of  brief  duration. 
It  lasted  while  he  folded  up  the  altar  cloths 
and  put  away  safely  the  chalice  and  the 
paten;  but,  when  he  was  alone  in  his  room 
once  more,  he  was  all  despair. 

"  Alas,"  he  cried,  "I  deserve  to  die.  Love, 
thou  hast  been  of  slight  aid  to  me.  I  thought 
to  throw  a  six,  and  I  have  come  off  with  an 
ace.  Never  in  this  world  could  my  lady  have 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  4! 

heard  me.  Else  she  would  at  least  have 
lifted  her  eyes,  nor  so  soon  drawn  back  be- 
hind her  screen.  It  was  her  wimple  betrayed 
me,  that  covered  her  ears  so  closely.  Curses 
on  the  father  of  such  a  fashion!" 

Flamenca,  however,  had  not  failed  to  hear 
Guillem's  "alas,"  and  suffered  some  despite 
from  it.  She  showed  no  sign  while  Archam- 
baut  was  with  her;  but,  when  he  went  out 
after  dinner,  she  gave  way  to  her  grief. 

"It  would  have  been  for  me,  rather,  to  cry 
'alas!'"  she  made  moan.  "He  suffers  not, 
being  neither  sick  nor  in  prison.  Why  then 
insult  my  sufferings?  Dear  God,  what  harm 
have  I  done  him,  that  he  should  assail  me 
in  such  a  place?" 

"Come  hither,  sweet  children,"  she  cried 
to  Alis  and  Margarida,  "and  give  heed  to 
what  is  troubling  me.  A  young  man  I  know 
not,  whose  face  I  have  never  seen  before,  has 
basely  insulted  me." 

"What  young  man,  my  lady?"  demanded 
Margarida. 


42  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

"He  who  gave  me  the  pax." 

"What  did  he  say,  madam?"  asked  Alis. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  though  it  pains  me  even  to 
recall  it.  To  mock  and  torment  me,  in  hand- 
ing me  the  psalter,  he  murmured  'alas!' 
as  if  it  were  he  who  suffered,  not  I." 

"What  was  his  bearing,  my  lady,  as  he 
said  this?" 

"He  kept  his  eyes  cast  down." 

"Why,  then,  madam,  I  am  not  so  sure 
he  meant  to  insult  you.  It  appears  to  me  as 
if  he  felt  some  fear  in  your  presence,  rather 
than  overweening  pride." 

"It  is  true,"  reflected  Flamenca,  that  "he 
blushed  and  sighed." 

"Certainly,"  then  broke  in  Alis,  "this 
young  man  did  not  seem  so  ill-bred  as  to 
wish  to  harm  you.  Besides,  he  is  not  the 
one  who  always  gives  us  the  pax.  He  is  taller 
and  handsomer.  He  is  more  skilled  at  read- 
ing, also,  and  sings  more  clearly.  In  short, 
he  had  all  the  seeming  of  a  gentleman." 

"My  lady,"   spoke  up   Margarida,   once 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  43 

more,  "I  do  not  know  this  young  man,  or 
what  he  wants  of  you,  but  I  think  you  would 
do  well  to  discover  his  meaning." 

"You  speak  as  if  that  were  an  easy  mat- 
ter," replied  Flamenca,  petulantly.  "How 
can  I?" 

"Christ,  my  lady,"  exclaimed  Alis,  "if 
it  were  left  to  me,  I  should  manage  easily 
enough.  Ask  him!  He  said  'alas'.  Do 
you  say  to  him  now:  'Why  do  you  com- 
plain?'" 

"I  can  try,"  said  Flamenca,  still  doubtful. 

So  the  following  Sunday,  when  Guil- 
lem  gave  her  the  pax,  she  took  the  psalter 
and,  tilting  it  a  trifle  towards  Archambaut, 
she  whispered:  "Why  do  you  complain?" 

It  was  Flamenca's  turn  now  to  be  troubled 
and  to  ask  if  Guillem  had  heard  her. 

"Did  you  hear  me,  Alis?"  she  demanded 
when  they  had  returned  from  church. 

"Not  I,  madam." 

"And  you,  Margarida?" 

"No,  my  lady,  I  heard  nothing.    How  did 


44  THE    STORY   OF   FLAMENCA 

you  speak?  Show  us,  and  we  shall  be  able 
to  tell  you  if  he  heard." 

"Stand  up,  Alls,"  commanded  Flamenca, 
"and  pretend  you  are  giving  me  the  pax. 
Take  that  copy  of  Blanchefleur  for  the 
breviary." 

Alis  jumped  up,  ran  to  the  table  where  the 
book  lay,  and  came  back  to  her  mistress, 
who,  for  all  her  sadness,  could  scarce  keep 
from  laughing  at  the  sight  of  the  young  girl 
counterfeiting  the  clerk.  Then  Flamenca, 
tilting  the  book  a  trifle,  as  in  the  church,  and 
pretending  to  kiss  it,  said:  "Why  do  you 
complain?" 

"There,  did  you  hear  me?"  she  asked 
eagerly. 

"Yes  indeed,"  they  both  cried.  "If  you 
spoke  like  that,  there  can  be  no  doubt." 

Next  week,  Guillem,  this  time  having  pre- 
pared his  answer,  came  straight  towards  his 
lady,  who  loosened  her  wimple  that  she  might 
hear  the  more  clearly.  As  she  took  the  pax, 
he  said:  "I  die." 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  45 

"Nay,  he  must  not  die,  my  lady!"  cried 
Margarida,  when  Flamenca  had  repeated 
this  response.  "I  swear  I  have  never  seen 
so  handsome  a  young  clerk." 

"What  can  I  do?"  asked  her  mistress, 
weakly. 

"Ask  him:  'Of  what?'  since  that  is  what 
we  wish  to  know. " 

This  same  Sunday  the  workmen  came 
from  Chatillon.  They  marvelled  greatly 
at  the  oath  Guillem  required  of  them  before 
making  known  the  task  they  were  to  accom- 
plish. This  was  to  dig  a  passage  under  the 
ground  between  the  baths  and  his  own  room. 
They  were  skilful  and  worked  rapidly,  in 
such  wise  that  in  short  space  the  passage 
was  completed  and  so  cunningly  con- 
trived at  both  ends  that  not  a  sign  of  it 
showed. 

When,  on  the  eighth  day,  Guillem  gave 
the  pax,  Flamenca  whispered:  "Of  what?" 
then  drew  back  quickly. 

"My  little  Margarida,  I  said  it,"  she  ex- 


46  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

claimed  when  they  were  back  in  the 
tower. 

"Thank  God  for  that,  my  lady!  I  only 
hope  he  heard  you  this  time,  too." 

"You  may  set  your  mind  at  rest,  my  dear. 
He  moved  away  so  slowly  that  he  could  not 
have  helped  hearing  me.  Now  we  shall 
know  the  answer  on  Thursday,  for  that  is 
the  feast  of  the  Ascension." 

"Madam,  methinks  these  feasts  come  far 
less  often  now  than  at  any  other  season," 
pouted  Alis.  "The  rest  of  the  year,  when 
we  have  no  need  of  them,  there  is  one  nearly 
every  day.  While  here,  this  summer,  we  have 
had  five  full  weeks  with  nothing  but  Sun- 
days!" 

On  his  side,  Guillem  repeated  Flamenca's 
question  and  pondered  it. 

"'Of  what?'  she  asked  me.  Well,  it  will 
not  be  hard  to  tell  her  that,  for  I  know  only 
too  well  whereof  I  suffer." 

Thursday,  therefore,  at  tierce,  he  said: 
"Of  love." 


THE   STORY   OF   FLAMENCA  47 

That  night  Flamenca  lay  on  her  bed, 
more  pensive  than  ever,  and  with  something 
resembling  distress  at  her  heart. 

"Well,  what  did  he  say,  my  lady?"  asked 
Alis  at  last. 

"Ah,  my  friend,  you  could  never  guess. 
It  is  quite  different  from  anything  we  might 
have  imagined.  He  says  it  is  love  of  which 
he  suffers.  Did  anyone  ever  hear  of  a  stranger 
coming  thus  to  complain  of  love?" 

"Faith,  madam,"  laughed  Alis,  with  a 
sly  look  at  Margarida,  "of  what  evil  did  you 
think  he  came  here  to  complain  ?  Surely,  had 
he  been  beaten  or  robbed,  he  would  not  have 
sought  to  lay  his  complaint  before  you." 

"But  for  whom  is  this  love?  pursued  Fla- 
menca, still  puzzled. 

"Why  my  lady,  I  can  guess  readily 
enough,"  replied  Margarida,  also  laughing; 
"but  since  you  would  have  sure  knowledge, 
ask  him  that,  too." 

"Good  God!  Is  it  a  jest?"  cried  Guillem 
on  Sunday,  when  she  had  asked  him:  "For 


48  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

whom?"  "Is  it  possible  she  does  not  suspect 
my  love?  How  can  she  help  knowing  that 
I  love  her  with  all  my  heart?  But,  since  she 
asks  me,  I  will  gladly  tell  her." 

So  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  Guillem, 
trembling,  answered:  "For  you." 

Then  was  Flamenca  sore  troubled. 

"What!"  she  exclaimed.  "Can  it  be  for 
me  he  cherishes  an  amorous  desire?  Then 
he  must  needs  seek  another  mistress,  for 
my  love  is  no  love  at  all,  but  sorrow  and 
anguish.  Sobs  and  sighs,  troubles  and 
tears,  bitterness  and  sadness  of  heart — 
these  are  my  near  neighbors,  my  privy  com- 
panions. What  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I 
say?" 

"My  lady,"  exclaimed  Margarida,  "what- 
ever you  do  or  say,  you  will  surely  not  let 
that  gallant  young  man  love  you  and  en- 
treat you  in  vain!  Who  knows  but  God 
Himself  has  sent  him  to  deliver  you  from 
prison?" 

"Even  were  I  to  return  his  love,  I  do  not 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  49 

see  how  that  would  advantage  him  in  aught," 
said  Flamenca. 

"Ask  him,  my  lady.  He  has  done  so  well 
already,  he  will  surely  know." 

So,  the  following  Sunday  Flamenca  said: 
"What  can  I  do?"  and  the  eighth  day  after 
Pentecost,  on  the  feast  of  Saint  Barnaby — 
a  little  feast  for  which  Flamenca  would  no 
more  have  set  foot  out  of  doors  than  for 
that  of  a  simple  martyr  not  in  the  calendar — 
Guillem  answered  "Cure." 

"How  can  I  cure  his  ills,  who  am  with- 
out remedy  for  my  own?"  pondered  Fla- 
menca, and  her  damsels  counselled  her  to 
ask:  "How?" 

"Trust  him.  He  will  easily  find  a  way  to 
compass  your  happiness  at  the  same  time 
as  his  own." 

"May  God  in  His  mercy  will  it  so," 
sighed  Flamenca,  "for  at  present  I  do  not 
see  how  we  shall  ever  be  able  to  do  more  for 
each  other  than  we  do  now." 

"In  little  space  God  works,"  replied  Alis 


5<D  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

devoutly,  "and  brave  effort  overcomes  all 
obstacles." 

The  following  Sunday  was  the  feast  of 
Saint  John.  It  was  not  a  day  lost  for  Guil- 
lem,  whose  lady,  in  taking  the  psalter,  and 
whispering:  "How?"  brushed  his  finger  with 
her  hand.  When  he  was  alone  again,  he  sang 
for  joy. 

"O  God,"  he  cried,  "I  swear  by  the 
apostles  and  the  prophets,  I  will  give  all 
my  rents  from  France  for  the  building  of 
churches  and  bridges,  if  you  will  but  let  me 
see  my  lady  face  to  face!" 

The  next  time,  drawing  near  with  a  high 
heart,  he  said:  "I  have  found  a  way!" 

"He  has  already  found  a  way!"  ex- 
claimed Alis,  gleefully.  "Were  this  the 
olden  time,  lady  dear,  and  there  came  such 
a  friend  to  me,  I  should  think  'twas  Jupiter 
or  some  other  God,  who  was  in  love  with 
me.  Answer  him  boldly,  then:  "Take 
it." 

Flamenca  sighed,  her   colour   came   and 


THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA  5! 

went,  she  still  hesitated.  Suddenly  Alis 
sneezed. 

"  Bless  you ! "  the  damsel  exclaimed.  "  Now 
everything  is  bound  to  come  out  right.  We 
could  not  have  a  better  omen." 

"God  bless  you  both,"  cried  Flamenca, 
deeply  touched,  "for  all  the  hope  and  courage 
you  have  given  me.  I  will  do  as  you  say, 
though  I  know  not  if,  in  thus  accepting  his 
love  so  readily,  I  shall  not  be  dishonoured." 

"My  Lady,"  Alis  assured  her,  "there 
can  be  no  dishonour,  since  Love  wills  it  so." 

Thursday  was  the  feast  of  the  passion  of 
the  two  glorious  apostles,  who  hold  the  first 
place  after  Saint  Michael,  in  Paradise.  That 
day,  then,  by  her  answer,  Flamenca  con- 
firmed Guillem's  every  hope.  How  shall 
I  tell  his  delight?  Now  he  was  sure  that 
Love  wished  to  exalt  him  above  all  other 
lovers,  and  the  next  time  he  said  to  his  lady: 
"I  have  taken  it."  At  the  same  moment 
their  eyes  met  and  their  hearts  embraced. 

"Can  it  be  possible,"  wondered  Flamenca, 


52  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

"that  in  three  days'  time,  he  has  found  a 
way  whereby  I  may  heal  him?  How  want- 
ing in  faith  was  I !  It  was  a  sin  even  to  doubt 
him.  I  promise  now,  before  God,  that  if  he 
can  bring  us  together,  I  shall  be  his,  and  his 
alone,  forever  more." 

"Small  love  do  I  owe  the  knights  of  my 
country!  Two  whole  years  have  I  dwelt 
in  bitter  grief,  and  not  one  has  given  a 
thought  to  me.  And  the  knights  of  this 
country!  Scarcely  do  they  merit  the  renown 
of  true  knighthood,  who  permit  a  poor 
stranger  lady  to  perish  thus  miserably!  But 
this  knight  has  a  right  to  all  my  love,  who, 
for  my  sake,  has  placed  his  own  life  in 
jeopardy." 

So  Flamenca  hesitated  no  longer  but  next 
time  asked  him  boldly:  "What  shall  I  do?" 
and  eight  days  later  Guillem,  in  his  turn, 
answered:  "You  will  go,"  but  did  not  say 
where.  So,  on  the  feast  of  the  Magdalen, 
Flamenca  inquired:  "Where?"  and  the  day 
following  Guillem  said:  "To  the  baths," 


THE   STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  53 

whereat  Flamenca  divined  he  had  found 
some  way  of  coming  to  her  in  the  baths,  and 
prayed  God  and  His  saints  that  there  might 
not  thereby  come  to  her  any  dishonour. 

On  Tuesday,  which  was  the  feast  of  Saint 
James  of  Compostella,  she  demanded  reso- 
lutely: "When?" 

Great  was  Guillem's  joy,  and  it  would  not 
have  been  hard  for  him  to  answer  at  once; 
but  he  would  rather  have  let  himself  be  ton- 
sured with  a  cross  like  a  thief,  or  branded 
with  a  red-hot  iron,  than  speak  a  word  which 
might  have  betrayed  them. 

The  fifth  day  thereafter  he  replied: "  Soon." 

Then  again  was  Flamenca  sorely  dis- 
tressed. 

"Fear,  shame  and  love,  draw  me  in  differ- 
ent directions,"  she  cried.  "Fear  chides  me 
and  warns  that,  if  he  caught  me,  my  hus- 
band would  burn  me  alive.  Shame  bids 
me  beware  of  the  world's  dispraise.  Love 
says,  on  the  other  hand,  that  Fear  and  Shame 
have  never  made  a  brave  heart,  and  that 


54  THE   STORY  OF   FLAMENCA 

she  can  never  be  called  a  true  lover  who, 
through  them,  lets  herself  be  turned  aside. 

"Yet,  O  Love,  how  grievous  are  thy 
darts!  Never  could  I  have  guessed  that  to 
love  meant  to  suffer  so  sorely!  But,  since 
I  am  at  thy  mercy,  naught  remains  for  me 
but  to  receive  thee.  Enter  then  into  this 
dwelling  which  is  thine  own.  My  heart  shall 
be  thy  chamber.  Naught  shall  avail  to 
oppose  thy  will,  for  I  belong  to  thee 
only. 

"And  to  him  who  comes  to  claim  that 
which  I  hold  from  thee,  as  thy  vassal, 
I  shall  answer,  without  longer  delaying, 
'With  all  my  heart!'" 

At  these  words  she  fell  into  a  swoon  and 
remained  without  consciousness  till  Archam- 
baut's  return. 

"Madam,  here  is  our  master,"  cried  Alis, 
fearful  lest  her  mistress,  awaking,  might 
let  fall  some  word  to  arouse  his  suspicions. 
She  cried  so  loudly  that  Flamenca  recovered 
her  senses;  but,  before  opening  her  eyes,  she 


THE    STORY   OF   FLAMENCA  55 

lay  still  a  moment,  to  prepare  what  she 
should  say  to  her  husband. 

Archambaut  was  all  disturbed.  Bringing 
water,  he  dashed  it  in  her  face.  Then  at  last, 
opening  her  eyes,  and  looking  up,  she  drew 
a  deep  sigh. 

"My  lady,"  he  inquired  anxiously,  "what 
ails  you?" 

"My  lord,  a  pain  at  my  heart  is  killing 
me."  ' 

"I  believe  if  you  took  a  little  nutmeg 
every  day  it  would  cure  you." 

"No,  sire,  the  baths  alone  can  bring  me 
any  relief.  Lead  me  there  on  Wednesday, 
I  beseech  you.** 

It  did  not  please  lord  Archambaut  to  have 
his  wife  go  to  the  baths.  He  took  her  there 
as  seldom  as  possible,  and  always  examined 
each  corner  carefully  before  leaving  her, 
for  fear  some  man  might  be  lurking  in 
the  corner;  but  he  could  not  refuse  her 


now. 
« 


Very  well,  I  am  willing,"  he  grumbled, 


56  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

going  out  in  a  bad  humour  to  find  Pierre 
Gui  and  to  tell  him  to  make  ready  the 
baths. 

Tuesday  Flamenca,  who  found  herself 
well  enough  to  go  to  the  church,  said:  "With 
all  my  heart,"  and,  with  her  left  hand,  lightly 
brushed  Guillem's  right.  He  returned  home 
in  a  state  of  rapture,  and  that  evening  he 
heard  his  host  say  to  two  servants: 

"Cleanse  the  baths  and  empty  them  so 
that  they  will  fill  up  afresh  for  our  lady,  who 
will  come  tomorrow  at  an  early  hour." 

Wednesday,  at  daybreak,  Flamenca,  feign- 
ing a  return  of  her  malady,  made  great  dole, 
as  well  she  might,  for  she  had  not  slept  a 
wink.  She  called  feebly  to  her  husband: 

"Never  in  all  my  life  have  I  suffered  as 
I  do  now.  Hasten,  I  beseech  you,  and  be 
not  too  vexed,  for  you  will  soon  be  rid  of 
me.  Indeed,  rather  would  I  die  than  endure 
my  present  pain;  and,  if  the  baths  restore 
me  not,  already  I  hold  myself  to  be  no  better 
than  one  dead." 


THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA  57 

The  damsels  were  already  up  and  dressed. 
They  went  first,  taking  with  them  their 
basins  and  unguents,  while  Archambaut 
followed  reluctantly,  leading  his  wife  to 
her  lover. 

When  he  had  looked  well  in  all  the  cor- 
ners, as  was  his  wont,  he  went  out,  locking  the 
door.  Quickly  the  damsels  sprang  to  bar 
it  on  the  inside.  Then,  looking  at  each  other, 
they  said: 

"What  shall  we  do?  We  know  not  where 
or  how  he  will  enter,  who  has  given  us  this 
tryst." 

"I  am  no  wiser  than  you,"  replied  Fla- 
menca.  "I  see  nothing  changed  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  place.  Yet  I  have  no  thought 
to  undress,  since  I  did  not  come  here  to 
bathe." 

Scarcely  had  she  spoken,  when  they  heard 
a  little  noise.  The  next  instant  Guillem 
lifted  a  stone  in  the  floor,  and  entered. 

In  his  hand  he  held  a  candle.  His  shirt 
and  his  breeches  were  of  fine  linen  from 


58  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

Rheims.  His  shoes  were  of  silk  embroidered 
with  flowers.  His  well-cut  doublet  was 
fashioned  of  some  costly  stuff,  and  he  wore, 
on  his  head,  a  little  cloth  cap,  sewn  with  silk. 
Love  had  lent  him  somewhat  of  his  pallor, 
but  he  was  only  the  handsomer  for  that. 
Kneeling  before  Flamenca,  he  said: 

"My  lady,  may  He  Who  created  you, 
and  Whose  will  it  is  that  you  should  be 
without  peer  for  beauty  and  graciousness, 
save  you — you  and  yours!" 

And  he  bowed  low  at  her  feet. 

"Fair  sir,"  replied  Flamenca,  "may  He 
Who  never  lies  and  Who  willed  you  to  come 
hither,  protect  you,  and  permit  you  to  ac- 
complish all  your  desire." 

"All  my  desire,  sweet  lady,  all  my  thought, 
all  my  trouble  and  my  pain,  are  for  you,  to 
whom  I  have  given  myself.  And,  if  you,  in 
turn,  will  give  yourself  to  me,  all  my  wishes 
will  be  fulfilled." 

"  Fear  not.  Since  God  has  granted  us  to 
come  together,  you  will  have  naught  to 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  59 

complain  of  in  me.  Besides,  since  long  time, 
my  heart  has  been  yours." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
tenderly  and  embraced  her,  then  said: 

"If  it  be  your  pleasure,  we  can  seek,  by 
the  safe  way  I  have  made,  the  room  where  I 
have  so  often  gazed  upon  your  tower." 

"As  you  will,  sweet  friend.  I  shall  go 
whithersoever  you  lead  me,  sure  that  you 
will  bring  me  back  again  in  all  security." 

The  passage  was  not  dark,  for  it  was 
lighted  with  candles,  and,  before  they  knew 
it,  they  were  in  the  chamber,  which  was 
richly  furnished  with  tapestries,  with  benches, 
with  precious  stuffs  of  all  sorts,  and  strewn 
with  green  rushes. 

Guillem  and  Flamenca  seated  themselves 
upon  a  couch  raised  a  little  above  the  level 
of  the  floor,  while  Alis  and  Margarida  took 
cushions  at  their  feet. 

Flamenca  looked  at  them  fondly. 

"Dear  friend,"  she  said,  "never  have 
these  damsels  grown  weary  in  pleading  your 


60  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

suit.  And,  had  it  not  been  for  their  wise 
counsels  and  good  sense,  never  would  you 
have  had  your  desire." 

Guillem  thanked  them  warmly,  begging 
them  to  accept  of  him  girdles,  diadems, 
ribbons,  bracelets,  brooches,  rings,  little 
bags  of  musk,  and  still  other  trinkets.  Then, 
turning  to  Flamenca,  he  said: 

"Sweet  love,   a  boon,   I   beseech  you." 

"Name  it,  dear  friend.  I  think  no  wish 
of  yours  could  prove  displeasing  to  me." 

"I  have  two  cousins,"  he  answered,  "Otho 
and  Clari,  who  follow  me  that  they,  too, 
one  day,  may  be  made  knights.  It  would 
please  me  were  they  to  have  some  share  in 
our  happiness." 

"How  mean  you?" 

"My  squires  are  young  and  debonair, 
like  your  two  damsels,  in  whose  company 
they  would  not  want  whereof  to  speak. 
And,  if  they  found  it  in  their  hearts  to  love 
one  another,  they  would  but  love  us  the 
more." 


6i 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  63 

"It  shall  be  even  as  you  say,"  assented 
Flamenca  gladly,  and  Guillem,  opening  the 
door,  told  his  squires  to  enter. 

They  marvelled  greatly  at  seeing  Fla- 
menca, and  when  their  eyes  fell  upon  the 
two  damsels,  they  believed  they  were  under 
some  spell.  Quickly  they  fell  to  their 
knees. 

"Here  am  I,  lady,  to  do  your  bidding," 
said  each  of  them  in  turn. 

Flamenca  was  well  pleased,  and  welcomed 
the  young  men  graciously.  Then,  turning 
to  her  young  women: 

"Come  hither,  both  of  you,"  she  addressed 
them.  "Here  are  two  young  men,  and  you 
are  two,  also.  It  is  my  wish  that  each  should 
have  her  friend.  Wait  not  to  be  entreated. 
'Tis  I,  your  mistress,  who  entreat,  who  tell, 
who  command  you,  to  do  all  their  desire. 
Go  to  the  baths.  Pleasure  awaits  you  there." 

Then  Alis  chose  Otho,  and  Margarida 
had  Clari.  Together  all  four  went  to  the 
baths,  where  there  were  pleasant  chambers, 


64  THE    STORY    OF    FLAMENCA 

from  which  Alis  and  Margarida  had  no  need 
to  come  forth  as  they  went  in,  unless  they  so 
desired. 

When  they  were  alone,  Guillem,  turning 
to  Flamenca,  said: 

"Long  have  I  suffered  for  your  sweet 
sake  a  martyr's  pains.  Now  that  we  have 
come  together  at  last,  I  thank  you  for  these; 
but  you  know  not  yet  who  I  am,  unless  it  be 
that  Love  has  told  you  I  am  your  man." 

"My  friend,"  said  Flamenca,  "I  doubt 
not  you  are  of  some  high  estate.  This  I 
know  by  the  knightly  soul  you  have  shown 
in  wishing  to  be  my  lover." 

Then  Guillem  recounted  to  her,  word  by 
word,  who  he  was,  how  he  had  come,  and 
all  he  had  done  since  he  had  been  at  Bourbon. 

When  Flamenca  knew  what  manner  of 
man  her  Guillem  was,  she  was  so  full  of 
joy  she  gave  herself  to  him  without  stint. 
She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  and 
kissed  him  with  all  her  heart. 

Many  times  did   they  kiss  each  other  on 


THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA  65 

the  eyes  and  on  the  mouth  and  on  the  hands 
and  on  the  neck,  and  many  times  did  they 
do  for  each  other  all  those  things  without 
which  joy  in  love  is  incomplete.  Each 
sought  to  appease  the  heavy  burden  and  the 
long  desire  that  each  for  the  other  had  suf- 
fered. 

They  took  pleasure  too,  in  rehearsing  the 
words  they  had  spoken,  and  so  lovely  was 
their  delight,  that  man  would  not  know  how 
to  record,  or  mouth  to  speak,  or  mind  to 
conceive  it. 

When  it  came  time  to  part,  Guillem  called 
his  squires  and  the  damsels.  These,  their 
eyes  wet  with  tears,  thanked  him  for  the 
happiness  that  had  been  theirs  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  young  men. 

Guillem,  too,  wept  when  he  took  leave 
of  his  lady,  for  it  seemed  to  him  he  would 
never  see  her  more.  He  was,  however,  to 
see  her  again,  and  that  many  times;  for, 
henceforth,  Flamenca  would  return  to  the 
baths  as  often  as  she  pleased. 


66  THE    STORY   OF    FLAMENCA 

The  season  of  sorrow  and  sadness  was  over 
at  last  for  this  lady  and  her  two  damsels. 
No  longer  did  they  remember  their  prison, 
or  the  jealous  husband  who  kept  them  there 
in  vain;  for,  from  this  sad  trial,  had  sprung, 
for  them,  joy  and  happiness. 


4L 


DEC 


m  3  0  ^574 


:.!M  S  8  1971  6 


UC  Southern  Regional  Library  Facilit- 


A    000519916     1 


Library  Bureau  Cat.  No.  1137 


